55 reasons why

Tuesday

2011-11-24T20:43:00.000-08:00

Relaxed, slept in a bit, then headed back to the wonderful boulangerie. The almond croissants were already gone so I instead reluctantly (ha ha) got a croissant au chocolat..mmmmm. We decided to wander over to Sainte Chapelle and ended up missing it by a block. I got to use my rudimentary french, asking a street sweeper "ou es Sainte Chapelle s'il vous plait". When we got there it was only a short wait to enter through similar security to airports (turns out the main court building shares the entrance and courtyard). Inside we climbed another tiny circular stair to enter a beautiful chapel filled with stained glass. Each panal depicted the passion of Christ and at the front of the alter there was a casket/sarcophagus. It was silent and instilled a sense of quiet respect. When we left, we were confronted by an organized group of Scientologists protesting. (Later that night over dinner Steve & Eric explained that France sees them as a cult and won't recognize it as a religion). Crossing over the river, we took in the free exhibit at the Hotel de Ville. The well-known New Yorker illustrator, Sempe, had most of his works on display, and even though most were in French, it wasn't hard to see his talent in capturing humor in life. Our final destination was to the Musée départemental de Résistance et Déportation better known to us yanks as the French Holocaust Museum. A guard welcomed us and inside the gates, a courtyard of walls with both names of those lost as well as those who took in and sheltered Jews during Hitler's reign sobered us. Within the musee, we proceeded downstairs and through a crypt with an eternal flame burning inside a Star of David which encased ashes of those lost. Further down was rooms filled with the history of Jewish life in Paris, the times they were the focus of prejudice and Hitler's sway over the politicians. It interspersed newspaper and news reels with films of survivors and artifacts donated by families. Although profoundly sad, it is so important that our world never let something like this happen again. On a happier note, tonight we ate at a wonderful restaurant around the corner from our studio. We, Kirsten & myself, joined Eric & Steve & Eric's friend in a tiny restaurant 'La Fountaine Gourmande' on Rue de Chalet lit by candles. I felt like we were back in time in an etherial atmosphere happily tasting french cuisine while bantering in a mixture of french and english. I started with scallops & shrimp en cruet , then had canard (duck) over baby glazed potatoes, and finished with a grand marnier souffle. What a perfect way to end a perfect 6 days in Paris!

Day 4

2011-11-21T11:51:00.000-08:00

We started off this morning with no hot water - but in its place a delightful find of extraordinary almond croissants from a boulangerie we happened to spot the night before (across the street from the pizzeria). We ate while making our way to the Louvre; whereupon Steve had pointed out the optimal most entry point and place to buy tickets (from within the Carrousel du Louvre shopping center). Without any hesitation or wait, we entered the massive, many winged museum. We headed towards the Italian works, first viewing the winged victory statue, then proceeding through hallways of religious master pieces. We wound through to see The Last Supper, of course the Mona Lisa, and headed towards the Greek/Roman section. Found Venus de Milo, and descended to the Medieval level for some exploration of the crypts. After rising to the ground level again, we found the Egyptian works. Inundation of tour groups and children took off from here! And even more havoc with an "unknown" blocking of one of the exits/shut down of a stairwell. Alarms were going off every now and then; but without an ere of concern by officials, we assumed it was probably resultant of the tour groups going a bit wild. After some more circling for a proper exit, coupled with Kirsten's sore throat, we finally exited the museum and surfaced on the street. The temperature was much cooler today and the skies grayer than yesterday. We also learned it's hard to find a toilet that doesn't cost money to enter. We crossed over the left bank and found a cafe where Kirsten enjoyed a cafe de creme and we headed to Pont Neuf for our boat tour. Upon entering the boat, Kirsten was guilted into paying change to the tip plate, to use the toilet (she caved to the pressures). The boat took off & despite the cooler weather, the fairly empty boat, and the speed of which they circled the river.. the time of the day was impeccable. As we rode the river, the sun began to go down, and we soaked in the awe inspiring views. Our ride was from Pont Neuf to the Eiffel Tower, where we U-turned and circled around the island, making our second U-turn to head back to Pont Neuf just before Canal St-Martin. The lighting for pictures was ideal! After we ported, we went back to the Marais for our early evening plan.
We picked up a baguette, stopped in an Italian deli for a chicken lasagne and eggplant & pepper antipasto, and made one final stop for a bordeaux and chocolate mousse desert. All the food was exceptional; but of particular note (and this applies to all chocolate/desert here), there is a purity to the taste. It is much less sweet than in America - and the chocolate in particular - leaves you with a satisfaction not coupled with the sugary/filmy/full feel you get from deserts and meals back home. C'est bon!
We are planning for an equally casual and delightful day tomorrow :)

Day 3

2011-11-21T11:32:00.000-08:00

Oof.. we closed our outer panels over the windows and woke up at 10:00! Life abounded outdoors while we slept away! After leisurely making coffee, we made our way out the door of our apartment and headed towards the Eiffel Tower. This was the farthest point from 'point A' to 'point B' that we've done so far, taking about an hour in total. We crossed the bridge around Pont Neuf and strolled the left bank for a quiet, warm, and sunny stroll. Upon arriving at the Eiffel Tower, we looked at the crowds and decided to eat first. Grabbed a chicken and salad baguette and OJ to split, found a spot on a bench just south of the Tower, ignored the gypsies, and decided we didn't really want to wait two hours to go up for the view (we have more viewpoints in mind for the city). Instead of climbing, we crossed back over the river to the Trocadero area and museum of architecture. We took pictures of the towers, took in the scene of break dancers, street performers, Andean musicians, and families & amped skateboarders. Very relaxing & enjoyable! After maximizing our time there, we moved outward towards Avenue des Champs-Élysées. After a brief stop at Arc de Triumph, we strutted down the avenue, taking in the designer stores like YSL, La Coste, Louis, Abercrombie, Gucci etc. As the sun began to set, we met Steve & Eric in front of the La Grand Roue (giant ferris wheel at the end of the Avenue des Champs-Elysees). As a group, we went through Tuilleries - the gardens outside the Louvre - until we saw the Eiffel Tower explode with its hourly glittering. Followed with the BEST, thickest hot chocolate known to man, from Angelina's, we enjoyed the beautiful weather that carried into the night. After having our dessert (!), we walked to Pizza Sant'Antonio and had an exceptional meal: a crème de cassis to wet our palets, four cheese pizza with artichoke hearts, and of course the new release beaujolais nouveau 2011. Eric and Steve's friend, Sophie, joined us for dinner. Although she didn't speak much English, she was very friendly and showed us the herbs she's using to teach children about natural/homeopathic remedies, toothpastes, etc. She is studying to be similar to what we may say is a naturopath as her second career. We lounged at the restaurant until about 11:30, and returned back to our apartment on Beauce to set the alarm (haha) to ensure a decent wake up time for our next day out! Another full, but more leisurely & enjoyable day!

Day 2

2011-11-19T12:22:00.000-08:00

This morning, waking up a little late, we made coffee in the apartment and headed straight toward Notre Dame towers. Our 11:00 arrival meant close to an hour wait before we went in circles up 400 tiny, narrow steps to view the city of Paris laid out around us. From there, we wandered past the southern perimeter of the Latin Quarter, through the Universite Sorbonne to the 60 acre Luxembourg Gardens. After Luxembourg, we went over to the Musee de Rodin, where we enjoyed both the gardens and the museum. The museum is housed in an 18th Century mansions, where Rodin lived the last 9 years of his life. The Gardens are the third largest in all of Paris, with works like The Thinker and The Gates of Hell. From there, we went to Musee de Orsay, where we were overwhelmed by the extensive collection; ranging from Impressionists to Realism and the welcome highlight of a windowed clock overlooking most of Paris. By then our empty stomachs and sore feet said, go find a restaurant! .. Which we eventually did via a few lost detours through swarming crowds of Saturday night Parisians and tourists. We landed in the sanctuary of a quiet restaurant around the corner from our studio, La Pierre du Marais. After dinner we grabbed a chocolate tarte to split, and opened a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau (the currently celebrated 'arrived' wine) - which funny enough, cost the same price. The weather has been remarkable for November! Perfect walking weather! We're looking forward to another full and enjoyable day tomorrow!

Day 1

2011-11-19T12:01:00.000-08:00

We decided to take Rick Steve's advice; and after a brief neighborhood Marais tour the night before from Steve, we headed off to Bastille Friday morning. From Place de la Bastille, we wandered westward on Rue St. Antoine. On the right hand side of the street we turned into Hotel de Sully, built during the reign of Henry IV and hometown of the French aristocracy. Through a walkway, we popped out into what is now one of Paris' finest squares. Place des Vosges held Louis XIII on horseback centered in a plaza that is also a community park. After enjoying a stroll around the square, we went to visit Victor - Hugo that is - of Les Miserables. He lived in one section of the Hotel (#6) between eight rooms. Inside there were various caricatures, pieces of satire, and period furniture. Then it was onto Carnavalet Museum, about the history of Paris. It was quite nice because it was free and they even checked our coats! Inside it went through a series of artistic interpretations of the different periods in French history. One of the more interesting was a recreated prison room of the royal family (Louis, his wife Queen Marie-Antoinette, and their eight-year-old son) after they tried to escape to Austria to begin a counterrevolution. Kirsten liked this room best, seeing as it housed a miniature pool table, layered game table, a reasonably sized library, and a side bar; all things she considers to formulate an optimal living space. We continued on to the narrow streets of the Jewish Quarter, along Rue des Rosiers, which is one of the oldest areas and continues to reflect many kosher restaurants and styles with Jewish-themed works. We then crossed through Rue Ste. Croix de la Bretonnerie, gay Paree's main drag. Eventually we arrived at Pompidou Center in the Beaubourg area (which means beautiful village). Before the 1960s, ironically, Beaubourg was the slums until - then president - Georges Pompidou created an inside out, futuristic cultural center for the arts. There was street entertainers, chalk artists, and Niki de Saint-Phalle's water sculptures dedicated to works by Stravinksy.
Being our first day, we were very motivated and continued across the river to the island where Notre Dame sits. We went into the Cathedral; but decided the line was too long to ascend to the towers. Instead we walked towards the Latin Quarter, first stopping to admire the Shakespeare & Co bookstore, a longstanding temporary home and support system for struggling writers. After looping through the Latin Quarter, we crossed back over the Seine. Listening to our stomachs and our tired feet, we retired home after picking up a baguette, mousse de canard, and Kirsten's delightful Normandy soft cheese (and of course, red wine).

PEOPLE NEED MORE FACE-TO-FACE!

2011-10-01T12:23:00.001-07:00

I love/hate my computer and I am so afraid for our children. They don’t know how to actualize themselves and I blame our online social media for that. I was lucky to grow up in a time when the outdoors beckoned much more than a screen. The angst of my teens was spent exploring new hangouts and beaches and people that were open to dialog. If I had had a computer/smart phone/ i pad..I would have been a deceptive liar both to myself and the online world. As an artistically literate sensitive being, I would have let my imagination go wild. Some may argue that this is good; that it allows true freedom but I know that for so many who are like me, it would have been like an imprisonment. I would have been boxed in my room, linked to a box/screen..turning a pale, sun deprived face inward.

So many people are fakers and the internet breeds them. They make-up names, and convice themselves they are better than others, that they are seekers..as they push away real relationships which take work to sustain. Click like, click friend request, click delete…it is a throw away existance; no wonder so many people are on anti-depression meds!

I am on my computer everyday for work and at home. I love that I can read the NYTimes everyday without ads. I love that I can fact check in seconds or that I can google directions. I have reconnected with people and felt an initial thrill, then realized beyond a post or two, we again fall away. I realized when I went away twice in the last year for a few weeks each time that I can also live without it and be outside so much more. The computer is both an addiction and a social crutch.

WALK AWAY..at least limit the time spent. Reconnect face to face or wander out and meet others the real way (not hidden behind a self-selected pic, or carefully edited bio). LIVE!

ok it's been a long time....

2011-01-22T19:08:00.000-08:00

The school year is half over and I am surviving with 38 kids in the class- 213 a day. I'm off to Puerto Rico in March for spring break. It will have been 36 years since I first went there, a young so naive 20 year old flying into San Juan solo, bargaining with a "publico" driver to take me three hours across the island to find a house I had no address for. The days before cell phones or internet! I was lucky, the driver accepted my bargain offer then took me, on the way, to his house where his wife prepared a nice lunch and told him to make sure I made it safe to my destination or be sure to bring me back to her. Crossing the inland rain forest and emerging outside Rincon on Sandy Beach, we contacted a person named __________ who it seemed knew of every mainland surfer and which house they were renting. And I made it to a shack on Sandy Beach halfway down to a palm lined beach. Roosters dominated the half dirt, half gravel road and I discovered the bathroom was an outhouse guarded by the meanest bird trained for cock fighting. It was like an unwrapped paradise, raw in its beauty. Two years later I returned with another love and good friends (and an indoor bathroom this time!) We lived in the bottom of an evolving cement brick home with no screens and mice in the stove but the waves and water were warm, whales drifted outside the surf, and I lay contently dormant for a time.

Fast forward to now. Friends have built homes on the beach, Trip Advisor ranks the town, and Sandy Beach Road is filled with condos. I am changed from the naive young girl wanting to escape parents and school and pressures and so I will greet the changed Rincon. Maybe I will see a glimpse of my youth, a ghost of a time when I basked in the open vastness of what could be. If so, I will wink, smile, and tuck it away for safe-keeping.

ahhh..work

2010-09-11T13:58:00.000-07:00

I really like my job once I'm in my classroom. Kids are kids- mini wanna be adults, highly sensitive to their surroundings. I can deal with them but.... in a reasonable number. This year, we gave up five days (adding to the two from last year), a pay cut for 3 years, and an increase to our class student contact from 190 to 213 a day. I have 37 varying academic abilities and assorted personalities per period. My room is small so it is filled. Add in overstuffed backpacks and it is a danger zone!
Close to 80 kids 10-12 years old want my individual attention. Of course, there are the "shout outers" that necessitate it, and the "social butterfies", as well as the "funky individualists" with colored hair or gothic dress. And then there are the "needy huggers" who break my heart with their tales of parental loss, abuse or poverty.
All the district cares about is raising their test scores on a 60 question random vocabulary (of course out of context), trick style comprehension test. I teach the prescripted lessons, rush through ancient civilizations (social studies light), and try my best to "hook" them into wanting to read and learn. I spend hours grading and lunch tutoring, and after school conferencing. I care about them, reward them, talk to them, and try to infuse a sense of kindness and humanity in them. All the district cares about is one test score.
How ridiculous! I am losing my faith in public education- not because we are failing but because I think it has become a political drive to make it fail so that the wealthier can set up free private schools under the guise of "charters".
I want to teach art and AVID next year or electives. I need to show the kids that being creative will get them farther than being a test drone.
I want to LOVE my job again.

Why?

2010-08-28T12:53:00.000-07:00

No one is smiling.
There is an almost smile from the gentleman on the right and the lady in blue but it could also be interpreted as a grimace or sad resignation.
How many people actually LOOK at others? Is it because we are "taught" not to stare (impolite)?
I don't trust people who don't look me in my eyes when they talk.
Faces look more appealing or beautiful when they are smiling.

I'm looking at you.

Smile :-)

2010-08-16T09:01:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to put my "work" hat back on. Last June after the final school year, I was a nervous semi-wreck. I had no travel plans or people to travel with, I had one of K's college loans due, K's course timing resulted in delayed transcripts and diplomas, and finally found out I lost my partner at work.

Over the summer I've gradually let go and realized I can't control life. I think I basically am driven by fears- fear of loss, fear of failure, and fear of the future unknown. Fear was what got me through a tough emotional childhood. If I did well, I felt good. Achievement equated calmness in life. Crazy, I know, that the stress of practicing, or memorizing, or creating would result this way, but it does for me. I like the self validation that hard work brings. That's why I hate when I put forth so much effort (at work) and it isn't even enough to earn the right to deserve what others get so easily.

Loss is a tough one. I know intellectually that all humans will at some point experience it but I am so scared of it. Again, I know I overcompensate succumbing to the false rational that if I make everyone happy or I research solutions, I could avoid it. But it doesn't work. I couldn't save my parent's marriage, or their health, or at various points my own career aspirations, paths, friends, or love.

The future scares me even more because there are so many things left I want to achieve and I know being locked into this job, and driven by economic concerns, that they may not occur. I want to grow old, really old and see my children succeed. I want to be healthy and less stressed (!) and not dream of all the trivials that surround my present existance. I want to dance again.

So it all comes down to control, or rather the willingness to let go sometimes. That is what I think I have managed to do a little this summer. I stayed home, walked the beaches, ate too much (!), probably drank too much wine, and read and read and read. I relearned how to relax although I did have moments of minor panic thinking..I should be doing this or that.

And now I have to go back. I know everything will be ok once the routine starts. I just have to face, once again, a few fears.

dreaming

2010-08-15T13:22:00.000-07:00

vast horizons beckon

calling to the sea

ancient ghosts whisper

grasp gently for I am thee…

reason 3

2010-08-13T10:54:00.000-07:00

nice name...nice concept!

Transportation

2010-08-10T15:48:00.000-07:00

It’s summer in California. You wouldn’t quite know it from the weather which has been more like Seattle’s than typically San Diego. But the traffic is there to remind me. I’ve added on time to, at all costs, avoid the freeway. Last Thursday as I headed to Laguna for the day, I watched as the southward bound cars inched along I-5 from Capistrano to Carlsbad. Where is everyone going?

Every day I meander to the beach walking my dog under an umbrella of coastal clouds. It is early but a few intrepid surfers paddle out in Cardiff’s reefs. The lifeguards, probably due to budget reasons, don’t get there until at least 10 or 10:30.

I once relied on a bike for my summer transportation to and from the beach, and/or work in my favorite back east town then so unpretentious yet full of characters both known or not. Oh Montauk! The NYTimes called it the new hip place to be this summer. To me, it was a place to wear flipflops to artist’s parties, play pool under the guidance of a seventy-something bartender at the Memory Motel, and surf with my best friends at an uncrowded break between Ditch and the trailer park. I fell in love there, got married there, and left a piece of myself on a craggy path winding along the clifftop.

I once surfed and traveled the waters…Gilgo, Montauk, Florida, Caribbean. But I crashed in California, losing two boards to theft, and I walked away.

I once ran. Outside and in my dreams. It brought a calming continuity into my life. Out the side door of the house on Athena, up the road to Neptune, down five blocks to Beacons, dancing down the steps to the beach, southward to Moonlight, a return but further to Grandview, back up to Neptune, and again south reversing down Athena to return home. I could turn my head toward the sea and wave away the houses clustered along the fragile cliffs and find an internal hum. I would feel light then and it became easy and, like a needed meal, it became a routine.

Now I walk and I think and I wish others walked with me.

Now I drive everyday. I don’t want to but I do. It is a means of transport but it is passive and it definitely doesn’t sooth or calm. If not stopped in a gridlock, it becomes a crazy race.

I feel handicapped even though I have so much.

In my spare time I read & respond

2010-07-26T19:30:00.000-07:00

I responded to a NYTimes article last week and 12 people liked my thoughts (It was about the "Barefoot Bandit" and the fact that others such as teachers, neighbors, etc. let him slip through the cracks as his mom was neglectful & emotionally abusive. I talked about how the educational cuts make it harder & harder to reach all children, especially in a class of 38. Also spoke to the testing emphasis and how students living under less than optimal conditions have a hard time putting testing as their priority). Encouraged by the fact that someone waded through 3 pages of comments to read mine, and the fact of having extra summer downtime, I also wrote on another blog about managing healthcare: http://glasshospital.com/. Following is what I wrote about the changing face of health delivery:
July 23, 2010 at 10:46 am
As a youthful 55 year old, I have seen it all. In my youth, our pediatrician made house calls when we were too sick or infectious (chickenpox), visited me in a hospital after I had been injured in a car accident and years later tended to my ill child even though I resided in a different state and was only visiting.

In my 20s and 30s, raising children and working as a teacher, I had great insurance provided through my job which enabled me to pick & choose the doctors I felt most comfortable with. If my athletic child fractured a bone, I was able to immediately go to an orthopedic specialist.

Fast forward to 2010. I now pay a ridiculous amount each month to belong to a highly restrictive HMO. I have had to sever all ties with my doctors as very few take this insurance. When I tore a tendon recently, it took me 2 weeks to get a referral, and 3 weeks to get a walking boot. I had to go through a maze of visits in which each provider told me he was restricted by the insurance company from giving me a boot. This theoretically saved money. Insurance companies seem the biggest threat literally to the health of the patient. Profit seems to have robbed compassion.

With a daughter going forth into the field of medicine, I can only hope that someday we look back, re-evaluate the importance of the human connection, and find a better way to finance health care.

curious

2010-07-22T13:14:00.000-07:00

Being fairly new to blogging, I started exploring the more blogs (next blog) button at the top of the page. I did this a few days ago, looked at a few blogs, then repeated it today. I didn't get the same blogs but I did notice something curious. Blogspot must categorize blogs under what they perceive to be similar topics. Mine seems to be shared with religion somehow. Very strange.

Was it the title? Does the word "reasons" link it in some philosophical sense to those people who surround and immerse themselves in God? Is Blogspot run by (managed) by some religious sect I don't know about? My curiousity is slightly tinged with apprehension.

Before I get people writing and trying to convert (convince) me that I need to turn over my life to Jesus, let me just say that I feel I am very spiritual and I certainly don't reject the idea of a God or of the need for religion. I am just very scared of the people who can't see out of the human-created interpretations and their zealous need to try to convince everyone else. I don't appreciate mania in any form about anything.

I do believe that we will never know everything and I do believe we need to abide and live by such morals as kindness, selflessness, forgiveness, and acceptance of others. Whether it be the Commandments, the Tao, or Buddhist 8 fold path, or one's one sense of innerfaith, our world would be a better place if we could set aside our fears and anger at other's differences. I've had students tell me that History books are false and that things such as global warming are made up by liberals that want to take God out of the schools. It's so funny yet sad that people can be manipulated so easily. If God is so almighty, he is everywhere and we don't need to worry so much. Our crisises, wars, and pollution come from human sources and mixed up senses of entitlement, profit, and control.

Anyway, maybe I should retitle my blog so as not to offend others! Pax.

reason?

2010-07-19T19:15:00.000-07:00

When did I become a conservative liberal?

hmmmm

2010-07-19T15:40:00.000-07:00

I don't know why it's taken so long to post another entry. I constantly have snips and wisps of things I want to post but somehow stare at this site with something akin to fear. I know no one is really reading this but there is an anxiety that somewhere, somehow, some person may. Am I authentic? Am I open? Maybe. But looming larger is that old anciently decrepit (sp?) ghost called judgement.

I've tried laughing at it, ignoring it, stuffing it into a tiny box which I then stuffed inside a moving trunk and placed in the highest reaches of my cobwebby garage. But it left a tiny imperfect scar in my imperfect mitral valve. Like my tiny mv prolapse, it only happens on rare occasions and just when I drift on in life and almost forget, it skips a beat and I'm stuck.

"Who cares?" has been my life-raft more and more as I mature (translation: grow older) but it has a slow leak sometimes. Things I floated away from so many years ago have recently re-emerged as my children experience things. Their moments of joy, or sadness, or loss brings a remembrance to the surface. Sometimes it's good like remembering the simple joys of found love and quiet moments indelibly etched into a smile. A cold almost winter night snuggling under layers of blankets, sipping cointreau, sharing a book, warming up to another. Midnight calls and ancient letters. These brought me here and birthed my two greatest creations. And yet they floated away for a time, just recently near again.

And sometimes it is painful like remembering loss. Little losses which piled up into lie losses which piled up into people losses. I don't want to remember so many of those losses yet they too wash around me. Is it because way back I swam away from them? I ignored them and turned my back, and once I hit land, I ran and I ran- only looking forward, not back?
What I loved, I also hated and I needed distance, hard work, and control to surround myself with a peace.

I don't know where this is going as it started with a curiousity on why I'm having a hard time writing. Maybe I am looking inside too much and instead need to look outside. Tomorrow I will go down to the beach, observe, and wade into an ocean of others.

Reason 2.1

2010-07-06T09:28:00.000-07:00

Back in the day siblings made for company- good times, annoying times, and an alliance against the authority forces which naturally surround childhood. It's funny that during the time one experiences or is in transit through childhood, the end result of freedom and adulthood seems so much more important than the journey. Mom and Dad were always emphasizing the moment; dinner table discussions were for reviewing and criticizing the finer points of the drive, the day, the event. All of this was lost to us in a moment after a footjab given or received beneath the table, a sly glance at who was wrapping their disliked food into a napkin and whether they would succeed in swiftly maneuvering it into the corner trash. (Sorry Nina, that you didn't know why Ted & I always fought over the side seat in the corner!)

But it returns, like a favorite movie clip. There's a new appreciation in every review... only part of the cast is gone. I so wish I could have grown up with my parents. I want them to see us now as adults, able to relate to them on a different level. I look around and listen to friends who lament watching their parents grow old. Mine are forever frozen in my mind as still young or rather middle-aged as I am now. The gap was just beginning to shorten when they were so quickly erased.

This is for you Mom- thank you for the talks, both the nights I couldn't sleep as well as the phone calls in the last years. I wish we could sit once more and "discuss" aka "argue" life. I no longer think I know so much.

This is for you Dad- thank you for letting me know that I really didn't know so much and for introducing me to even more. I wish we had more time to talk so you would realize you didn't need to apologize. I did know that you loved me.

And for sister and brother- although separated and at distance, we are still connected by threads and tangles of times and memories, some good, some annoying...an alliance now in preservation.

Reason 1

2010-07-02T13:59:00.000-07:00

reason 1 slightly late
I’ve been reading a lot lately which is good but…passive. I get caught up in someone else’s story, then overwhelmed in my own. I’ve been treading water. I would prefer to say running in place but my left ankle is still on the mend! 2010 didn’t start well but I’m suspecting that it is because I need a change. What better reason historically or emotionally that a series of (hmmmmm cliche here) unfortunate events?

I hate liars, fakers, and wimps and 2010 seems to have brought the mass out in force. I want to believe (thank you mom) that everyone has good inside but whenever I convince myself that positive thoughts and outlooks = a happy return, I am challenged by LFWs. And by wimps, I mean cowards which circles back to liars as the only thing that differentiates them is fear. Liars wrap deception around them like a second skin and even often convince themselves that what they present is true whereas cowards can’t face truth or pain or the thought that someone may not, as a consequence, like them. So they try to make everyone happy or avoid someone so they don’t have to face a dilemma. Either way, it’s abhorrant. I try to avoid LFWs but somehow, have gotten tangled up in a crew of them. I’m trying to avoid them but unfortunately as LFWs they are avoiding me and thus nothing is being resolved.

It all comes down to change, and taking a risk within myself. I’ll try with baby steps, smile, and hopefully find new areas to explore.

Silence Screams

2010-07-02T13:56:00.000-07:00

November 1963-
I remember my teacher crying and being released from school early. Dad had a scheduled business trip to D.C. to present another paper (probably on another top secret (!!) material or structural analysis of some material for some newly planned supersonic stealth jet) and even an assassination didn’t cancel the trip.

D.C. was cloaked in black and everywhere in the chill November silence tears froze. It was a stunned city that wept history and ingrained human frailness into a nine year old’s mind. It was a time of trust, when I ran into woods unafraid and only a whistle would call us home.

Then, at Arlington, I stood so close as a family car with secret service sped by and we looked so nearly close at loss. Winds of pain and just a hint of what I would learn 28 years too soon. Death doesn’t whisper and it doesn’t steal; it slips in half shielded in shadows of dreams. And the white silence is a scream unleashed.

2010-07-02T13:52:00.000-07:00

Once was..
I was once a dreamer, a poet, a dancer..
now I’m a dreamer, a poet, a teacher…
I wrote of dreams,
lived for words,
moved from land to sea…
I once thought all could be,
yet was (and still am) afraid to be
me…
listening is easy.